Page 58 of Scandalous

Just then the door to the library flew open, and three bodies hurtled into the room. One of them, a boy of perhaps fourteen, stopped in front of Lady Ramsay. “Mama, you must make Antonia stop following us.” The other boy stood silent, and Sarah saw he was absolutely identical to the first.

Lady Ramsay lifted her brows and gave them both a very significant look.

They turned, their young faces flushing when they noticed Sarah and Graaf, who sat on the settee. And then they noticed Bouchard.

“Martín!” they both yelled, launching themselves across the room.

The third child was a very dirty little girl. Sarah thought she was perhaps four years of age.

“Uncle Martín, Lucien is being beastly,” the little girl lisped, pushing past her brothers and crawling into Bouchard’s lap, covering him with mud in the process.

Bouchard’s expression was priceless as he looked from the little girl to his no longer spotless coat and pantaloons.

“Antonia, what have you been doing? You are a petite cochon.”

Antonia ignored him and burrowed into his arms, her small filthy hand worming itself into his previously white cravat.

Martín stared at the ceiling with a look of resignation, but Sarah noticed his arm had snaked around the little girl and he was cradling her gently against his chest as he turned to the boy beside him. “Lucien, why do you keep your little sister in a pig sty?”

The boy snorted. “She followed us down to the river and then fell in and cried. We had to stop everything and bring her back home.”

Martín turned to the other boy.

“Hello, Captain Bouchard.” The second boy’s face was identical to his brother’s but his expression was as calm as Lady Ramsay’s; Lady Ramsay was obviously the mother of all three blond children.

“Hello, Richard,” Bouchard greeted him, nodding with equal seriousness while cuddling the little girl, who was poking her tongue out at her brother Lucien.

Martín smirked at Sarah, perfectly aware of how adorable he looked holding the beautiful child in his arms.

Sarah scowled at him.

“That is the look of somebody who has been closeted with Martín for too long,” Ramsay observed, chuckling.

“I’ve seen that look on your face before, Hugh,” Lady Ramsay told her spouse.

Martín rose to his feet. “It is my cue to leave when people discuss me as if I am not here. I will return you to your father, you dirty little girl.” He kissed the top of her golden head before thrusting her into the baron’s arms.

“You will come back for dinner, I trust?” The baron held his filthy daughter at a safe distance.

“With pleasure. Mademoiselle Fisher.” Martín bowed to her and then left without another word, ignoring Mies as usual.

An awkward silence was cut short by the appearance of a servant looking for her charges. All three grumbled, but left with the woman.

Lady Ramsay stood. “Miss Fisher, let me show you to your chambers.”

“Thank you for your kind hospitality, Lady Ramsay,” Sarah said as the woman led her through a confusing collection of turns.

“Please, call me Daphne. Also, promise me this will be the last time you thank me.”

Sarah laughed at the blunt words. “Very well, and will you call me Sarah?”

“Here are your chambers, Sarah.” The tall blonde opened a door to an enormous room furnished in a delightful buttery yellow.

Sarah’s jaw sagged. “What a beautiful room.” The suite had a sitting room, a dressing room, and a room for bathing. “Oh my, what an enormous tub.”

“My husband comes from a family of tall men.” The baroness paused. “Your journey with Captains Bouchard and Graaf must have been most interesting.”

“It was . . . unusual. I believe I deserve the bulk of the praise for Captain Graaf arriving in one piece.”